While You Were
by DSDragon
Summary: The sequel to Trading Insanities that you've all been waiting for. : It is set four years after the end of Trading Insanities, so that would make it May of 2003. THIS STORY WILL NEVER BE FINISHED, SO IT IS MARKED COMPLETE.


_While You Were . . ._

DSDragon

**Rating:** PG-13-ish

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, _While You Were Out_, or any of the characters, settings, or mythos thereof.

**Thanks:** To all the people who read, reviewed, or just plain supported _Trading Insanities_. Also, to my wonderiferous beta, Lady Anne. Again, I'd suck without you. :)

**Author's Notes:** Yes, this is the sequel to _Trading Insanities_ that you've all been waiting for. :) It is set four years after the end of _Trading Insanities_, so that would make it May of 2003. I don't know as much about _While You Were Out_ as I do about _Trading Spaces_, so go easy on me, okay? Anything else you need to know will be in flashbacks (as usual).

* * *

**Prologue**  
**_You Did What?!?!?_**

"Honey, I'm home!" The cliché echoed through the old house at 1630 Revello. When the hollering bleached blonde didn't get an answer, he put down his briefcase, took off his coat, and put his car keys on the entryway table before heading toward the stairs.

"Buffy? Luv?" Spike called, on his way to their bedroom. "You here?"

"In here, Spike," came a faint, feminine voice from the room he'd just passed. The man stopped in his tracks, turned around, and headed for the closed door.

"Luv," he tapped on the door. "What's going on in there?" He heard some rustling and hurried whispers before he reached for the doorknob. "Is everything okay in there? What are you doing in the study?"

Before he could twist the doorknob, the wooden obstruction was flung wide.

Buffy's "Surprise!" fell on deaf ears as Spike took in the completely transformed room before him.

Another brunette woman came up behind Buffy, stretching out her hand to be shaken.

"Hi, I'm Teresa Strasser," the woman was cut off when Spike whirled on Buffy.

"You . . . I . . . Wow!" Then, he turned to the hostess. "It was the filmographer, wasn't it?"

Taken aback, Teresa's eyes widened.

"How'd you guess?"

Buffy spoke up. "Told you he watches all the time."

After a laugh, Teresa put on her hostess voice.

"Well, we've seen the initial reaction, but Mr. Wirthington still has to answer the 'toughest' question of all, after this . . ."

**Chapter One**  
**_Hopes and Dreams_**

_Yesterday Morning_

"Hi, you must be Buffy," the brunette at the door greeted.

"That would be me," the twenty-two-year-old smiled. "Come on in. Spike left last night, so you don't need to worry."

While the crew brought cameras and other media equipment into the house, Teresa pulled Buffy aside, along with one of the cameramen, and sat on Joyce's couch.

"What do you say we get started then? The crew knows how to get to the room, so they'll set up there. Meanwhile, how about we start with the how and why?"

"Alright," Buffy nodded. "What do you want to know first?"

"You said on your application that both of you had already been on _Trading Spaces_, is that right?"

At Buffy's nod, Teresa continued.

"What room did you do?"

"Well," Buffy answered. "You're sitting in it."

"Really?" Ms. Strasser Smiled. "You and Spike did this?"

"No, Spike and his Uncle Giles did this room. My mother and I did Spike's bedroom at his uncle's house, right next door."

"Right next door?" Teresa gawked. "You didn't move very far from home then, did you?"

"Nope. This was my mother's house. She . . . passed away last year, and I had been living here while going to school. When Spike and I got married, it just seemed like the best solution," the blonde explained. "I mean, I'm sure Giles wouldn't have wanted a couple of newly-weds keeping him up all night."

The women shared a giggle and a wink, and the hostess plunged on.

"Alright, I think they've had enough time up there. What do you say we continue this upstairs?"

"Sounds like a plan." Buffy stood, waiting for the hostess to precede her to the stairway.

"So, tell me," Teresa spoke halfway up the stairs, making sure the cameraman had followed them. "Why did you want to do this for Spike?"

"He's always writing, for one," was the reply. "I thought it'd be nice if he actually enjoyed the space he used for writing. He's always complaining that the décor puts him to sleep."

"And, two?" Teresa caught the early qualification.

"See, it's like this . . ."

_Three Months Ago_

"Honey?" Buffy called when she came in the kitchen door. She had just gone out for groceries, and didn't know when Spike would be back from his job at the local tailor's conglomerate-type store. "You here? I brought dinner!"

No response.

Shrugging, the blonde put the groceries away and headed through the house. Opening the front door, the recently-Mrs. Wirthington walked to the mailbox and grabbed the various packages inside.

She sorted through the mail, a bored look on her face. "Bill, . . . bill, . . . 'You may already be a winner,' . . . bill, . . . Ooh!" she spotted something interesting. "Publishing company!"

Spike had submitted a few stories to various publishing companies over the past couple of months. This was just the latest in a long line of responses, but the recurring phenomenon didn't deter Buffy's enthusiasm.

Buffy saw her husband's beat-up DeSoto pull up the street, and quickly made her way off the driveway so she wouldn't get run over.

"Hey, Spike," she kissed her husband hello when he came up the walk. "How was work?"

"I bloody _hate_ that job," Spike grumbled, scowling. "And now, they're making me go to an all-weekend meeting thing, just to tell me how to do stuff I already know. Bloody Hell!"

The two blondes walked in the house, and Buffy spoke up.

"I'm going to bed," Spike called from their bedroom.

"What about dinner?" his wife dutifully asked.

"Not hungry," Spike called back.

Knowing her husband wouldn't appreciate being pushed, Buffy just left him to sulk. She opened the correspondence from the publishers:

William Wirthington  
1630 Revello Drive  
Sunnydale, CA 55555 

J. Tracy Gorman  
Twinkle Toes Publishing House  
1478 West Lane  
New York, NY 77777

Dear Mister Wirthington:

We have received your manuscript, and, after careful review, have decided that your work would indeed suit our readers' interests.

Enclosed with this correspondence, is a check to cover copyrights and publishing privileges. You also will be receiving monthly royalties, once the book is released to the public. These payments are delineated in the enclosed contract. This is the standard contract that Twinkle Toes Publishing House makes with all new writers. Please sign and date in the appropriate spaces, and send the contract back within the next four months.

Once we have received the signed contract, our editors will mail you a set of proofs. Please correct these appropriately, and send them back in a timely manner.

Thank you,

J. Tracy Gorman  
Executive Editor  
Twinkle Toes Publishing House

Gaping, Buffy re-read the letter, and pulled the check from behind the paper. She gasped at the sum written in the small box. _That's a lot of money!_ She thought to herself. Spike would be thrilled! She smiled, thinking of the possibilities . . .

Her smile faded, however, when she remembered her husband's sour mood earlier that evening. Telling him now might make him feel better, but he wouldn't be very enthusiastic about the prospects of becoming a paid, published writer.

No, she'd just have to surprise him later.

* * *

_**Author's Notes **_

So, what'd you think so far? I still have to do a bit of research (see which designer I like best, and decide how I want the room to look, y'know?), so it's gonna be a little while until I get chapter 2 out. If anybody has any suggestions as to their favorite designer, or the style of the room, I'd be VERY grateful!


End file.
